The Main Thing

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
According to a recent report, this Christmas Americans will use over 28,497,464 rolls and sheets of wrapping paper, 16,826,362 packages of tags and bows, 372,430,684 greeting cards, and 35,200,000 Christmas trees.

If as E. B White observed, “To perceive Christmas through its wrappings becomes more difficult with every year,” trying to find Christmas beneath that much stuff is going to be a problem.

Meanwhile, the little book, Scroogenomics: Why You Shouldn’t Buy Presents for the Holidays, has become quite the rage. Essentially, the author argues Christmas is the ultimate bait-and-switch in which we spend gazillions of dollars on gifts that don’t bring any lasting satisfaction.

We all know this of course. And we’ve come to expect the familiar dressing down from the pastor or some other pulpiteer or editorialist about the need to put “Christ back into Christmas.” Still, nothing much changes. The preacher says the same predictable stuff while he, she, and we keep doing what we’ve always done.

How ‘bout another approach, a savvy both/and instead of a stern and sober, either/or? If you’ve got the discretionary income, buy the people you love something special. Me? I’ve always been a sucker for Santa Claus. There are worse things than lavishing special gifts on the kids and grandkids, especially if you help them understand this kind of lavish grace is because of Jesus. Just keep the credit cards on ice, remembering the wisdom of Proverbs, “The rich rule over the poor, and the borrower is the slave of the lender” (22:7).

Further, spread some Christmas cheer by giving generously to the Salvation Army ringer and the Crisis Closet, making a gift to Global Missions, and catching up your year-end giving to the church. Make sure you spend at least as much on Christ, his church, and his causes as on everybody else. It is his birthday after all.

But amid all the festive buying and giving, do the other thing too. Bring the family to worship during Advent. Let the children sit in spell-bound wonder before the twinkling Advent wreath and Chrismon tree. Delight to the pure, sweet sounds of the Children’s Choirs singing their Alleluias! Reel with joy as a world-class church choir presents a heartfelt Cantata. Gather on Christmas Eve to form a circle in the sanctuary, raise your lighted candle, and sing, “Silent Night.” And better yet, bring an unchurched friend or neighbor with you, someone who really needs him who is the Hope of the World.

Christmas is a blessed time for celebrating God’s indescribable gift, the gift of God’s one and only Son (2 Cor. 9:15; John 3:16). Amid the festivities and the fun, just work at keeping the main thing, the Main Thing!

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I Hope All Is Well

by Jody Long
In his book, The Hopeful Heart, John Claypool quotes Father William Inge’s definition of hope: “Hope sees that which is possible, but is not yet.” This is where we begin our Advent journey this Sunday. We begin with hope, the “Cinderella sister” of 1 Corinthians 13 according to Bishop William Frey. We spend a lot of time focusing on faith and love because they seem, at first glance, more tangible to us. We even have specific Christian holy days for both: for faith, Easter, and for love, the feast of St. Valentine (despite its American trappings!). However, there are not many days set aside for hope.

That’s why celebrating every Sunday of Advent is important. As we anticipate the coming – the advent – of the Christ Child, we are compelled to move through the web of feelings of the holiday season: hope, love, joy, and peace. Before we get to the others, though, we celebrate hope. For many of us hope is hard to come by, especially this year. Family tragedies, family struggles, job and employment issues, national and global concerns dominate our daily lives.

Who has time to “see what is possible, but is not yet”? We all do. The coming Christ Child certainly could have found a better place to make his entrance than in the poverty of a young couple, so poor that a barn would serve as a delivery room. He easily could have found a better time frame for his coming than the cruel, premodern time of the Roman Empire. He certainly could have found a “more deserving” couple – at least in the world’s eyes – than Mary and Joseph and chosen a comfortable life. But he didn’t.

In fact, his coming into that place, time, and family illustrates the beauty of hope. If hope really is seeing what is possible but is not yet, then Jesus could not have chosen a better entrance. For much of the world then – and now – finds itself in the situation of Mary and Joseph: poor, outcast, and oppressed. The Christ child came to bring hope to the multitudes then and now that long for deliverance from circumstances of their own making and those beyond their control.

A practice I began long ago was to close most correspondence with the phrase, “I hope all is well.” It is not a throwaway line. It is my sincere hope that the great vision of what could be but is not yet grounds and sustains friend and foe alike. It is in the midst of the “everyday-ness” of life that we need this vision of possibility to make through the Advent season and every day of our lives. As we begin Advent, I hope all is well with you, now and in the days until we celebrate together the coming of the Harbinger of Hope in our lives.

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Aren't We All One?

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
In a recent Baptists Today article, I read about a nineteenth century Baptist congregation that censored a slave for dancing. The slave was a "member" of the church, though as human chattel, it was his job to sit in the slave balcony, keep his mouth shut, be subservient as the Bible required (Eph. 6:5; Col. 3:22), and count on his heavenly reward to someday make everything right.

But one Saturday night, this slave did too much drinking and too much dancing and was sanctioned by "his" church. Of course, the real irony was that the local brethren were incensed over the slave’s alleged misconduct while remaining oblivious to their own far greater evil of owning slaves.

Looking back, we wonder how good, well-meaning, God-fearing people could think owning slaves was consistent with following Jesus. They did so by cherry picking Bible passages that seemed to countenance slavery while ignoring other passages that cried out for the liberation of all people in the name of God! (Luke 4:18; Gal. 3:28; Philemon, etc.). And they read their Bibles the way they did because their economic interests, social conventions, and racial prejudice led them to do it.

Recently, the Georgia Baptist Convention (GBC) voted to exclude the First Baptist Church of Decatur for having a woman as pastor, my colleague and sister in Christ, the Rev. Julie Pennington-Russell. Julie’s a gifted preacher and pastor and I doubt the GBC action will hurt her or her church, but it will certainly hurt the witness of Baptist Christians in the eyes of an unchurched world. And maybe in 25 years, or 50, or 100, the GBC action will seem as reprehensible to all Baptists as it does to me.

On the "women’s issue," or any other, I try to read the Bible in the light of Jesus, the One who told Mary to stay put, studying with the men folk, when her big sister, Martha, ordered her back to the kitchen (Luke 10:38-42); the One who commissioned a woman, Mary Magdalene, as the first Evangelist of his Easter triumph (John 20:17-18); the One who unleashed a Spirit-breathed movement where the promise "your sons and your daughters will prophesy!" was sounded with joy and passion (Acts 2:17).

Yes, there are passages in the Bible can be read as demeaning to women, as there are passages that can be (and were!) read as condoning slavery. But I choose to read such passages as speaking to a particular place and time while the universal word of the Gospel, the really Good News, the Jesus-emblazoned truth that should guide our reading of the Bible and the living of our lives is this: "In Christ, there is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female; for you all are one in Christ Jesus!" (Gal. 3:28).

It took the church nineteen centuries to understand that passage applied to slavery. Maybe in the 21st century, all of God’s far flung will finally see it applies to women too.

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Praying the Psalms

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
Along with most Americans, I am still reeling from the Fort Hood shootings. That thirteen brave soldiers, pledged to defend my life and liberty, were struck down by a madman on our native soil, breaks my heart and turns my stomach. That the gunman was a psychiatrist pledged to help soldiers manage combat stress adds to the perversity of the carnage. That he was a Muslim who allegedly cried "Allahu Akbar" (Arabic for "God is great") as his rampage began makes my blood boil.

I know I’m not supposed to feel that way. I am a preacher and a follower of Jesus. We’re supposed to be in the forgiveness and reconciliation business, as was our Master. Pray for your enemies. Turn the other cheek. It rains on the just and the unjust. You know the drill.

But right now, I’m not feeling like much of a Christian. In fact, I’m getting reacquainted with parts of my inner life I mostly keep out of view, even from myself. Like the lust for revenge, a lingering suspicion of Muslims since 9/11, and the justified outrage at a demented individual that so easily putrefies into a simmering hatred toward a people.

Fortunately, there are better people than I offering sane and sound counsel: “Don’t rush to judgment. Get the facts straight. And remember that the deranged killer, Nidal Malik Hasan, is no more representative of Muslims than the Oklahoma City bomber, Timothy McVeigh, was representative of Christians.” Those observation are all true. What bothers me is how powerless they are to quell the rage simmering within.

So right now, I’m praying the Psalms. I’m discharging my anger on the heavens. I’m railing at God so I don’t unload my anger on others in destructive ways. There’s a reason most of the Psalms are laments, after all. There’s a lot to lament in the world. And the Psalms are a gracious God’s invitation to rail and weep through a long, dark night in the hope a new day will dawn (Psalm 30:5).

There is a little Muslim boy in my city who went to bed last night ashamed and afraid. He is ashamed of what a madman did in Texas that besmirched the name of his family’s faith. He is afraid the kids at school will make even more fun of him than before. He wonders if he is still welcome in this great land called America he loves with all his heart.

I’ve never met this little boy, but as I was praying the Psalms last night, Jesus told me about him. And Jesus said this boy is my neighbor and that I am called to love and befriend him, and others like him, who are innocent and yet so afraid. Because that’s who Christians are. And with Jesus’ help, that’s what Christians do.

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Wonder Bread

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
The wonder of God's provision of manna in the wilderness did not quiet Israel's fears. She continued to be afraid God would leave her in the lurch, somewhere well short of the Promised Land (Exodus 16:19-21).

We read the story and wonder, "How could this be? After God marvelously delivered the Hebrews from Egypt, culminating in the crossing of the sea, how could they doubt their Lord?" And yet throughout Israel's wilderness wanderings, her anxieties, complaining, and desperation continued to mount.

Maybe the problem was Israel was only given manna one day at a time. These days, we call that living "hand to mouth." It is not generally regarded as a desirable way to live. Maybe if God could have cut Israel some slack and allowed just a little something for a rainy day, she might have lightened up.

Then again, maybe not. Turn over to Mark chapter 8. Jesus and his disciples get in a boat to retreat from the crowds. They need some down time after a busy but fruitful couple of weeks. Among other things, Jesus has fed 5,000 hungry folk in chapter 6 and 4,000 more in chapter 8. But despite such outpourings of plenty, the disciples are still worried when they discover they have but one loaf of bread between them (8:14, 17).

Jesus looks at them, at us, his face etched in astonishment: "When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many baskets full of broken pieces did you collect?"

The disciples look at him dully and answer, "Twelve."

"And when I broke the seven loaves for the four thousand, how many baskets full of broken pieces did you collect?"

Again they count up in their heads and answer, "Seven."

Jesus shakes his head in wonderment and asks, "Do you not yet understand?"

No, Lord, we don't. We're trying but we don't understand, at least not for long. Our fears are large and our faith is fleeting. Even in the face of your abundant mercies, we worry and whimper and plead. It must be hard to love us sometimes. Forgive us all the ways we test your patience and break your heart.

Just don't give up on us. Maybe someday, we will understand. Maybe someday you can count on us as we can count on you. In the meantime, give us this day our daily bread. And take our worries, when that is all we have to offer, and keep turning them into faith. Amen.

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A Rare Breed

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
Our church is one of an increasingly rare breed: a congregation that is multi-generational in makeup. More and more congregations--especially the flagship churches of the church growth movement--are focused on a particular group: twenty-somethings, baby boomers, young professionals on the rise, and so on. It has long been recognized that in churches, as elsewhere, “birds of a feather fly together.”

Problem is, that’s not what the Kingdom of God is supposed to look like. According to Jesus, the Kingdom of God is like a tiny seed that grows into a tree with strong, welcoming branches where all the birds of the air make their nests (Luke 13:19).

So I celebrate the diversity of ages and stations in life represented in our church. I love the spontaneity of the children, the vitality of the youth, the social conscience of the young adults, the moral earnestness of the mid-lifers, and the wisdom of the mature. I like seeing races and nationalities different from my own in worship. I like being in a church where thoughtful Democrats and Republicans can move beyond the predicable ideological posturing to ask, “What does that have to do with the Gospel?” I like being in a church where people are defined not so much by how they are alike, but how they are different and yet bound together by the Christ who forms the heart of our fellowship.

Well, okay, to be honest, most of the time I like those things, because diversity does bring with it certain tensions. People of varying generations and traditions have differing values, preferences, and expectations.

Take Sunday’s Processional of Commitment. For the past half-century or so on the first Sunday in November--All Saints’ Sunday--members of our congregation have marched forward, one-by-one, to place a commitment card in the little church on the altar. Most older, long-time members of our church deeply value this time of celebration and commitment. It’s one of the few times First Baptist folk leave their pews to process down the aisles, joyously proclaiming their love for Jesus and the church!

But to some newer members of the congregation--and younger people in general--the Processional of Commitment feels showy and ostentatious. This newer generation didn’t have a hand in creating this tradition and doesn’t always understand or appreciate it. A good number of these folk choose to skip Processional Sunday altogether.

In the spirit of a better Kingdom ethic, let me suggest an alternative: if the Processional of Commitment doesn’t appeal to you, feel free to sit quietly in your pew and silently enjoy the pageantry and joy erupting around you. And those who march must promise not to raise an eyebrow at those who don’t! We’re in this together after all. We belong to one another. And we belong to Jesus.

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The Frosty Fool

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
Millionaire David Pizer has made arrangements to freeze his body after death. He believes medical science will someday be sufficiently advanced to restore his frozen remains to life.

To insure he has ample funds for his next life, Mr. Pizer has set aside 10 million dollars in a “personal revival trust.” Given the miracle of compound interest, Mr. Pizer figures when he wakes up in a couple hundred years, he will be one of the richest men in the world!

This seems the ultimate expression of Jesus’ parable of the rich fool (Luke 12:16-21). In that story, another self-absorbed business tycoon can think of nothing better to do with his wealth than to build bigger and bigger barns to secure it. Just as he is poised to “eat, drink, and be merry,” the man dies unexpectedly, leaving his vast fortune for others to enjoy. God declares this man a “fool” for storing up treasures for himself but not being “rich toward God.”

Of course, it’s easy to see others’ folly but not so easy to recognize our own. Most of us think neither Mr. Pizer’s story nor Jesus’ story of the rich fool has much to do with us. But Jesus didn’t tell his story to the Mr. Pizers of the world. Jesus told this story to regular folk struggling to find work, pay their bills, and keep hungry mouths fed. In other words, Jesus told this story to people like us.

We are in the Stewardship Season at church, that time of year when the calendar, if not Jesus, forces us to face an uncomfortable subject: money. How much (or little!) we have and how much (or little!) we can afford to give away. This year more than most, this is a difficult conversation because so many folks are struggling financially. In our anxiety, we are apt to think first about how little we can do.

Jesus would shift the conversation from one of our scarcity to God’s abundance. In fact, his remedy to our financial worries is to “Seek first the Kingdom of God and God’s righteousness and the other things you need will be provided as well” (Matthew 6:33; Luke 12:31). For Jesus’ people, the first question is no longer how much can I stuff into my barns, but how much can I invest in God’s Kingdom, Christ’s church, and the Good News, proclaimed and lived, that changes everything.

This year, amid all the anxieties swirling about us, try to decide what you can and will give first to the God Movement at the top of Poplar. We are the First Baptist Church of Christ, after all. Our priorities and our calling are right there in our name.

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